


The Caucus-Race

by Assimbya



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Gen, Humor, Occasional pathetic attempts at puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assimbya/pseuds/Assimbya
Summary: The Dodo decides to enter politics.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Caucus-Race

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxtwin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtwin/gifts).



> The caucus-race episode of _Alice in Wonderland_ is generally held by critics to be a political parody; I decided to try turning that back on itself.

The Dodo cared about fairness. He always had, even when he was nothing but a little chick all covered with down; even then he had squacked with indignation if he noticed that one of his fellow nestlings had received a smaller morsel of food than the others. As he grew into adulthood and then into (if you don’t mind him saying so) one of the pillars of the bird community in Wonderland, this zeal for fairness alienated some who thought him a stickler and a bore, but others valued it. And, even if they didn’t, he looked out for their interests all the same, doing his very best to ensure that none ever felt himself excluded, or less deserving of honor and approbation than another.

It was little wonder, then, that one day, as he found himself easing into a distinguished old age, his thoughts began to turn to the question of a fairness on a far larger scale: the governance of their kingdom.

Traditionally, in Wonderland, politics had not been the provenance of birds. Sure, they took their turn serving in the jury box, or cheering for the King and Queen of Hearts as they made their regular processions. There had even been a brief moment, some years past, when the flamingos had agitated for labor rights in their role as croquet mallets, and all the other birds had stood by their side until they were granted an eight-hour work day and the right to form a union. But, for the most part, they stayed out of the whole mess. They recognized the Queen’s authority (though, of course, as everyone knows, the traditional form of government among birds is the conference), followed her laws, however arbitrary they might seem, and largely stayed out of her way. That was generally accorded the safest route.

Until, that is, the Dodo found, in the library of his good friend the Mouse, a heavy, mildewed book (one without pictures or conversations) which described a peculiar and enticing institution: the Parliament.

-

The first person he shared his idea with was the Mouse himself, who immediately tried to dissuade him.

“My good friend,” he said (for so they always addressed one another, as good friends do), “didn’t you read the book? A parliament can be disastrous! Arguments, rebellions, even civil wars. And haven’t you heard anything about what’s going on in England nowadays?”

Breezily, the Dodo dismissed his objections. “That’s _up there_ ,” he told the Mouse, with a lazy wave of his hand upwards, “certainly we’d have no such problems here in Wonderland. Why, I think you’re the only creature in this kingdom who could even name a single civil war, let alone have an idea of how to wage one.”

Briefly, the Mouse appeared flattered, but then he resumed his objections. “How can you expect any of the animals to vote? It’s not as though most of them are educated enough even to read. It was just the other day that I was trying to teach the Lory her times-tables, but she proceeded to begin pecking at the lesson-book until it was all riddled through with holes. And I don’t expect others are much better. Why, there’s no way we could expect an honest election with such an uneducated populace.”

The Dodo clicked his bill and shook his head. “Oh, good friend, don’t be such a snob. This is just what we need to change that! A chance for all the citizens of Wonderland to have a voice, to be a part of how things happen here. And, I expect, no offense intended, that the necessity of reading her ballot would motivate the Lory to focus on her studies far more effectively than the possibility of reading one of your history books.”

The Mouse squeaked a little, but it was mostly for show. He knew the Dodo was right. However, he had one more objection, and this one, the Dodo could find no easy answer for. “But the Queen! What about the Queen?”

The Dodo had to think. He didn’t want to lose his head.

-

Before he proceeded with his plan the Dodo considered very carefully how he would present it to the Queen. He had no ambitions of leading a revolution (he had read about those in the Mouse’s books, and they seemed to involved even more beheadings than were typical in Wonderland); in fact, he would prefer if the whole matter could proceed without anyone, at any point, being aggravated with him.

Fortunately, in his many years of trying to pursue fairness, the Dodo had considerable experience putting things tactfully. Also, and perhaps more relevantly, he had experience in speaking so loquaciously that others could not rightly tell whether or not he was saying something that they wanted to hear.

To this end, he sought an audience with the King and Queen of Hearts.

Despite his years, and his usually considerable self-confidence, the Dodo felt himself quavering a little as he was announced in the throne room. He approached the monarchs; removed his hat; made as elegant a bow as he could manage.

“Who,” the queen asked, her voice echoing through the room, “is that?”

“Your majesty,” he said, keeping his eyes downcast, “I am a Dodo.”

“What kind of creature is a Dodo?”

“I think, my dear,” the King said, leaning in towards his wife, “that he is a bird. Can you fly, Master Dodo?”

The Dodo winced; this was something of a sore spot. “I cannot,” he said, as politely as he could manage, and then tried to introduce the object of his audiences. “Your royal majesties, I am to seek your blessing for a project I wish to start here in Wonderland. It is a frabjous thing called a Parliament.”

The King looked baffled. “A Parliament? What is a Parliament?” He turned to the guinea pig taking notes beside him, “Do take down that word: Parliament. What would a Parliament have to do with us?”

“Well.” The Dodo took a breath. “It’s a…it’s a sort of. A party. A contest. An entourage. To add to your royal grandiloquence. Your pomp. Your circumstance. It would make you appear ever so much more royal.”

“Are you saying that we don’t appear royal enough as it is?” There was a high tone to the Queen’s voice which bespoke danger; the Dodo hastily backpedaled.

“Not in the slightest! I merely wish to augment it. Truly, it would hardly be possible for you to seem more royal, as far as anyone could imagine, but, as a loyal subject of your majesties, I wish you to have everything possible to rise to the highest ranks of the monarchs of the world, to be seen as the most glorious among them, to be the object of envy. Because, you see -“ he paused, letting the anticipation build, “the Queen of England has a Parliament.”

The Queen of Hearts’ reaction was immediate. “The Queen of England has one, you say?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Well, then, it’s settled! We should have one long ago. Go, Dodo, we command you. Make us a Parliament!”

Concealing his grin, the Dodo pressed his hat to his chest as he bowed and made his way out of the throne room.

-

The next step, of course, was convincing the candidates to run. He made a public announcement, but it was sparsely attended by everyone except the birds and field mice; likewise, the fliers he and the Mouse had printed didn’t seem to get much circulation; animals would take them, but later the Dodo would find them trod into the dirt, clearly unread. He decided a personal appeal was the only way.

And so he went, from house to house and burrow to burrow, to all the corners of Wonderland, even those to which he had never traveled. He spoke to creatures larger and smaller than himself, those he liked and those who frightened him, and asked them to become candidates.

The Gryphon agreed right away. “It’s high time we had some progress here,” he said with an approving nod, “why, when I was under the sea we held elections every year, like clockwork. Of course, the eels always won.”

The Dodo wasn’t sure he had followed. “And why was that?”

“Because we were electing office eels, of course!”

The Dodo still didn’t get it, but he gratefully added the Gryphon’s name to his list. As he did, he saw the Mock Turtle place a claw upon his friend’s shoulder, a tear easing from his eye. “I’m so proud of you my dear,” he said, “taking this step into the public!”

The Gryphon growled affectionately. “And, of course,” he said, “you will have to be my campaign manager.”

Neither the Mad Hatter nor the March Hare agreed so readily. In fact, they nearly shrieked with distress when the Dodo showed up at their tea-table.

“An extinct being!” The March Hare shouted, “On our doorstep! What will Time think of this?”

The Dodo did not take kindly to being called extinct, but for the sake of the Parliament he persisted. “Extinct or not, I am quite alive,” he said, trying for mildness, “and I have a proposal which I hope might interest you.”

Neither assented. In fact, they seemed downright petrified at the idea of participating in public life. “Me, give a speech?” The Mad Hatter asked incredulously. “Don’t know you what happened the last time I performed? Dear dead Dodo, I’m inclined to think you mean me some ill.”

The Dodo was creastfallen at the idea of having come all that way for nothing, until he noticed the Dormouse dozing in a saucer. He recalled his good friend the mouse had speaking of his cousin with some hurt in his voice, but he was so wanting for candidates that he didn’t feel inclined to give the Mouse’s concerns too much weight. After all, the only ill deed the Mouse had ever attributed to his cousin was falling asleep during one of his lectures and, for that, the Dodo could hardly blame him.

“Dear Dormouse,” he began, “how would you like to run for parliament?”

The Dormouse nodded. He might have been asleep, but it was good enough for the Dodo.

Flattery worked on the White Rabbit, and once he had recited some poetry the Caterpillar signed his name to the list gamely enough. Bill the Lizard thought about it long and hard, scratching his head, but ultimately agreed.

It was the Duchess’ Cook who was the biggest surprise. In all honesty, the Dodo had been trying to recruit the Duchess, but she was out and he thought he might as well ask. When he did, her eyes came alight. “I could make decisions for the nation?” she asked, “Redistribute wealth from the nobility? Mandate pepper in all soups?”

“If you follow the proper democratic processes, certainly.” The Dodo felt a little cowed by the intensity of her enthusiasm, but he didn’t want to dampen it.

“Sign me up.”

-

The day came; the ballots were handed out to every plant and animal and human and playing card who agreed to come. There was good turnout; the Dodo had promised to serve jam tarts as refreshments, and they continued to have a certain dangerous cache in those days. One after another, the creatures voted, and the ballot boxes filled up.

The Dodo swelled with pride.

The time came for the votes to be counted. As the Mouse had predicted, this was a difficult task. Many were illegible. Others had written in candidates who were certainly not on the ballot, including, most mysteriously, ‘treacle.’ But he gave the work his full attention, while all the creatures waited around anxiously.

“Who is it?” They asked, in chorus, “Who won? Who will be in our Parliament?”

Now here was the Dodo’s truest moment of delight. For, from the time he had first read about Parliaments in the Mouse’s book, there was one element about them about which he most excited. And that was the fact that they were made up of many members, not only a single one. And so he had the chance to make the announcement which is the epitome of fairness, which signals evenness and equality and which forecloses all possibility of hurt feelings or resentment.

“ _Everybody_ has won and _all_ must serve on the Parliament!”


End file.
